Reviews

Danse Macabre

Author: Johnny Angel

10/01/2001 | LA Weekly | Album Review

October 4
The Faint at the Troubadour.

Certain phenomena cannot easily be explained: the Bermuda Triangle, Area 51, the ingredients in a Jack in the Box taco, that sort of thing. But all of these assorted mysteries fall in the wake of the most inexplicable band taking the stages of America today, the Faint. A group of circa-1981 synth-pop fanatics from the wilds of Omaha, Nebraska, this band act as if time stopped the moment Duran Duran broke big or "Tainted Love" was omnipotent. Maybe it's the geographical isolation of Cornhusker land that fomented these Human League-cum-Depeche-Mode plus New Order gloom fans, or maybe it's really strong heartland acid - who knows? Fact is, the Faint are really no shtick act or retro clownfest, but basically fine songwriters who have found their groove and are happy in it. Their latest, Danse Macabre, is one hot synth riff after another and is cheerfully primitive in its simple beats. Brush your hair in your face, stiffen that collar, lose that facial hair and step back 20 years - into the present with the Faint!